


Take My Breath Away

by magicalmagic



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Asthma, Awkward Erik, Charles is a Professor, F/M, First Meetings, Lawyer Erik, M/M, Poor Erik, Sebastian Shaw is an asshole, background hank/raven, but what else is new, for half this fic charles refers to erik as 'hot turtleneck'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-14 17:19:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4573044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicalmagic/pseuds/magicalmagic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Charles wasn’t sure what grabbed his attention. Maybe it was the way the sunlight bounced off this stranger’s auburn hair; maybe it was the black turtleneck he wore even in the blazing heat; maybe it was the adorable way he fumbled to get the coins into the parking meter, but Charles couldn’t turn away from Hot Turtleneck. Even though he was across the street, Charles could tell he was attractive, from a wicked, triumphant smile when he put all his coins in the parking meter, to the confident way his fingers sorted through his files on his car seat.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Charles saves Erik from Shaw the first time they meet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take My Breath Away

As Charles sipped his coffee, his eyes continued to trace the stranger’s figure, whom he named ‘Hot Turtleneck’ in his mind. The coffee tasted grainy and too strong, and he wondered why Raven recommended this place to him, though he had a sneaking suspicion that it was to do with the man behind the counter, who Raven made moony eyes at before she left. At least it was quiet enough where he could get his work done without too much distraction. Well, before Hot Turtleneck came along.

Charles wasn’t sure what grabbed his attention. Maybe it was the way the sunlight bounced off this stranger’s auburn hair; maybe it was the black turtleneck he wore even in the blazing heat; maybe it was the adorable way he fumbled to get the coins into the parking meter, but Charles couldn’t turn away from Hot Turtleneck. Even though he was across the street, Charles could tell he was attractive, from a wicked, triumphant smile when he put all his coins in the parking meter, to the confident way his fingers sorted through his files on his car seat. 

He somehow made a turtleneck look good (Charles just couldn’t get over this). He should be imprisoned by the fashion police for this open rebellion. Mmmmm, Hot Turtleneck in chains, all leath lines and angles… Charles shook his head, trying to draw his attention back to his paper. A blank word document stared back at him, and the bright white hurt his eyes. Clearly, his eyes needed a break, and Charles turned back to the stranger (ignoring the fact that he could just turn his computer’s brightness down). 

But alas, it was not meant to be. Charles watched as Hot Turtleneck pulled out a file and tucked it into his briefcase. He closed the car door, locking it with his key, and briskly walked away. Charles sighed at those long legs as they disappeared into the distance. Hot Turtleneck was gone, with a swift right turn onto another block.

Charles shook his head, trying to push those thoughts out of his mind. What was he doing? Sighing after an attractive man like a lovesick schoolgirl while he should be working on his paper. For the life of him, Charles could not come up with a reason why he was so intensely focused on Hot Turtleneck. Hell, he didn't even know his name! It wasn't like him to crush on a stranger like that.

But... there was something about that man. Something... magnetic. That pulled Charles in, like a presence of force of something terribly strong, iron steel glinting in the sunlight…

Okay, that's enough, Charles ordered himself strongly. Now you're waxing poetic about someone you've never even met. It's time to stop, and focus. Charles nodded to himself, cracked his knuckles, and traced his computer keys with his fingertips. He scowled at the blank document, and started typing, his mind planning out next semesters coursework. On top of that, he still had a full bag of papers to grade, and he could feel a headache starting to emerge.

And yet, some part of him stayed focused on the stranger, wondering what he was like and if he would ever see him again...

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Charles pinched the bridge of his nose as a headache throbbed at the back of his skull. After grading the first 5 papers, it felt like his inspiration and energy drained out of him. He tried choking down the shitty coffee, but even that desperate act didn’t work. He let out a heavy sigh, full of irritation and impatience. He wanted these papers passed back a week ago, which turned into last Monday, which turned into Friday, and now it’s Thursday night...

Well. That’s what he got for his procrastinating. Maybe he was a bit too arrogant of his ability to pull everything together last minute. Charles started stacking his papers into his messenger bag, carefully separating the ones he’s already graded from the ones he still needed to grade. He resisted the urge to groan at the much larger stack he’ll need to finish tonight. He slipped his laptop into the case and stood up. It was time to go home. Maybe a pot of tea would help him focus.

Charles felt very ridiculous, walking with bags slung over each shoulder, but his car was only a block away, so he didn’t really have any right to complain. His computer thumped against his side as he waved goodbye at the man at the counter, who didn’t even take his nose out of his book to look up.

He stopped at the sidewalk, contemplating whether or not he should jaywalk or walk a little bit to get to the crosswalk (he was lazy, okay?). The traffic was pretty bad, cars whooshing by and clearly going over the speed limit. Debating on whether laziness was really worth his safety, Charles finally started for the crosswalk with a sharp turn of his heels.

As Charles pounded on the cross button with increasing impatience, his thoughts drifted back to the man from before. Hot Turtleneck. Maybe one day I’d run into him again, Charles thought wistfully, maybe I would get his number, go on a date, see if his waist is really as trim as it was defined by his turtleneck… 

Hah. Charles was confident enough in his appearance and flirting skills to get basically anyone into his bed, but there was something… different about the stranger. He seemed untouchable, an invisible stony wall perfectly crafted around him. Ugh, there he goes again. You’d think he was an English professor instead of a Genetics one, with all the metaphors he spits out. The walk light lit up, and Charles began crossing the street, his two cases thumping against his thighs.

Besides, Charles thought as his feet stepped onto the sidewalk, Hot Turtleneck would probably never talk to someone like me. He felt very self conscious of the stubble that’s slowly been turning into a beard, shaggy, shoulder length hair he should probably cut at some point, and frumpy professor clothing. 

Everything about him yelled, “lame professor with no life,” despite being in the prime of his life, his early thirties. And he didn’t want to think of his twenties as the prime of his life, which passed in a blur of parties and hangovers. Well, maybe Charles would meet him again when he actually cleaned himself up for an event or a party. Yes, when he’s wearing a slimming tailored suit, clean shaven and no dark circles underneath his eyes from staying up so late.

It was probably for the best. Charles looked up and saw that he was approaching Hot Turtleneck’s car. His car was very nice, and obviously well cared for. It looked powerful, sleek and smooth. It was dark black, void of dirt or smudges, and Charles felt the childish urge to press his fingers all over it, leaving fingerprint marks to ruin the perfection.

Charles’s neck snapped up when he heard frantic paced shoes slapping on the sidewalk in the distance. It was the only warning he had before Hot Turtleneck burst into view, running in a full sprint straight towards him. Charles’s heart jumped in surprised and he felt his mouth drop. It was like he summoned Hot Turtleneck with his mind!

Hot Turtleneck skidded on the turn, his arms flying out to stabilize himself before he continued sprinting towards his car, a death grip on his briefcase. Charles froze, enraptured by the powerful way his legs leaped off the sidewalk, the intense way his eyes focused on the parking meter, as if he was clinging to a lifeline.

Oh, Charles realized as he looked between Hot Turtleneck and the meter, he must need to put in money for the next 2 hours into the meter. But who would run themselves ragged just to save himself a $25 ticket?

And then Hot Turtleneck was right in front of him, lunging towards the parking meter and wrapping his arms around it, maniacal laughter erupting from him twinged with wildness and desperate relief. Charles found the way he threw his head back when he laughed, exposing the arch of his neck, and his shark tooth grin incredibly attractive. He decided very quickly that he would seize this chance and talk to Hot Turtleneck, despite his scruffy appearance and fear that he would be blown off.

Charles approached him, meeting sharp, calculating blue eyes with his own and a confident smile tilting up his lips (but at this point, Charles was so exhausted it might have turned into an awkward face spasm). God, Hot Turtleneck was only more beautiful up close, face flushed from running, a strong jaw and long fingers (piano hands, his father would say). 

Charles debated on either saying ‘why are you clinging to the meter still’ or ‘wanna get coffee? You look tired,’ or even one of his cheesy geek pickup lines, but before Charles could even open his mouth, Hot Turtleneck’s face twisted in pain, and he started coughing harshly. “Shit,” Charles whispered before awkwardly reaching out, not sure if he should touch the stranger, who was doing his best to cough his lungs out. Charles watched as he slumped over the parking meter, and slowly slid to the ground, his hands still clinging to the top of it. Charles slipped off both of his messenger bags and set them next to the stranger.

Charles crouched down next to him and put his hand on Hot Turtleneck’s shoulder to get his attention. “Ummm… are you ok? Do you need me to call someone? Do something?” ‘Do you,’ his mind added onto that, but he refrained. He wasn’t sure if the stranger could hear him over the sound of his wheezes, and he sat there watching as Hot Turtleneck continued pressing his forehead against the metal pole. Charles watched helplessly, keeping his hand on the man’s shoulder. 

Finally the stranger turned towards him. His eyes looked confused and full of panic. They stared at each other for a long time, with the stranger’s stuttering breaths and pathetic coughs the only noise between them. Hot Turtleneck closed his eyes and turned back to the pole, as if resigned, rasping out, “In… haler…” 

“Oh! Yes, of course, I’ll get that for you,” thank God, something to do,“But.. uh… where is it?” Hot Turtleneck motioned his head towards his fallen briefcase weakly, his breathing rate increasing as if that small motion took away most of his energy. He rushed over to the briefcase, picking it up and setting it down on the hood of the stranger’s car. Charles frantically fumbled through it, pushing aside papers and folders, and then inwardly cursed himself for being an idiot. The pockets! Charles opened one only to find pens. The other one had a red and white inhaler inside, and Charles pushed down a shout of victory as he carefully lifted it out. 

Leaving the briefcase on the car, Charles turned back towards the stranger, holding the inhaler out and yelling “I’ve got it!” The stranger ignored him, and continued to wheeze and cough against the parking meter. “You probably can’t use your inhaler with your hands on the meter…” Charles looked at the stranger’s hands, still desperately grabbing onto the meter, tight enough that his knuckles were white. It looked like he was trying to crush the metal with his hands. Why he was so attached to the meter, Charles didn’t know, but he sure put up a fight as Charles began prying off his fingers while shouting, “Let go, dammit!” It was quite hard to move his fingers with only one hand, the other one protectively clutching the inhaler to his chest. But soon he managed and wrapped the stranger’s fingers around the inhaler.

As if on autopilot, Hot Turtleneck brought the inhaler to his mouth, taking a large breath into it. Charles slumped down in relief, his heart pounding in his ears, and leaned against the side of the car. That was enough excitement for today, Charles thought as he tilted his head back and closed his eyes, letting the adrenaline rush go back down, I’ll have to stop by the store and get more tea packets. He heard the stranger still taking occasional puffs of the inhaler and shuffling around. Charles opened his eyes to see the stranger sitting in front of him and facing him, holding the inhaler with shaking hands as he watched him with wary eyes. Hot Turtleneck’s gasps for air made his body’s rib cage expand, and he wiped at his sweaty forehead. Charles thought he looked like someone who almost drowned on dry land. 

Charles wanted to ask him if he’s alright, or if he needed an ambulance, a ride to the hospital, but Hot Turtleneck slowly started to look better, his coughs trailing off and color started to return to his face. He never would have guessed that the stranger had asthma. Charles stared at the inhaler, thinking about how he never even thought adults had asthma, or at least he never met one with it before. But that is the smart conclusion to make, seeing that children with asthma eventually do become adults.

“Erik,” the stranger- no, Erik- coughed out, his voice hoarse and rough. Finally, a name! Charles beamed and responded with his own. He didn’t reach out with his hand, sensing that Erik would take his hand once he was ready. Erik smiled weakly at him before putting his inhaler back into his mouth and breathing in. How long do asthma attacks last, anyways? Charles would need to read up on that once he got home. 

Erik reached into his pockets and pulled out some coins, or at least Charles assumed that’s what they were from the jingling sound. Erik held out his hand towards Charles, looking at him questioningly before pointedly staring up at the meter. 

“Oh, of course!” Charles assured, pushing himself off the ground, “I’d be happy to help!” That is the reason why Erik ran all the way here, after all; no wonder he still wants to get money into the meter despite the asthma attack. Charles held out his hands and cupped them in from of Erik, who dropped the coins into Charles’s palms.

“How many do you want in?” Charles asked. Erik just shrugged and waved his empty hand in the air. Maybe he should put them all into the meter. He doubted Hot Stranger- no, Erik, he’s going to have to remember that- would mind if he wasted a couple of quarters. And he could pay him back if he was mad. Charles started inserting the coins into the meter, noticing that Erik’s tense posture relaxed some when he heard the first clink of the coin going in. Charles finished putting the coins in and squinted at the meter.

“Alright, Erik, you’re going to be fine for the next… three hours. Hope that’s enough.” Charles looked down at Erik, wondering if he should offer a hand up. He still looked kind of shaky; hopefully in a couple of more minutes he’ll be fine though. Erik nodded at Charles, his eyes staring past him as he slowly took his inhaler out of his mouth. 

“Are you, ah, feeling better now?” Charles asked, Erik shrugged. 

“A bit dizzy, but-“ He started coughing weakly again, looking like his energy was draining from him with each sharp sound. Charles felt helpless, his hands twitching forward instinctively, but he wasn’t sure what he could do. Erik sucked in a rattling breath and continued, “…I’ll be fine soon.” He winced as he talked, his voice still raspy and soft. His voice must have been sore from coughing so much and wheezing. Erik seemed frustrated and ashamed at being caught in a moment of weakness, refusing to make eye contact with Charles and instead looking past him.

Charles was about to sit back down next to him when Erik flinched violently, physically recoiling at what he was looking at. Charles turned around, dread settling in his stomach, but saw nothing unusual. Just the usual throng of people and… there was a police officer headed towards them, but Erik shouldn’t have to worry about that. He’s definitely not a criminal. At least, hopefully he isn’t.

And, well, the police officer was sort of slimy looking. Maybe Erik knew him. The officer seemed to know Erik, by the way he was staring straight at him and smirking. Charles felt the need to block Erik physically with his body from this man. The officer stopped in front of Erik, and they glared at each other. It made a dramatic picture, the officer towering over Erik with a smug grin on his face and Erik looking up at him with a defiant glare, looking intimidating even as he slowly rubbed at his chest, most likely still feeling lingering pain from the asthma attack. Charles coughed pointedly, and the office turned his eyes slowly away from Erik and to Charles.

“Is there any problem here, officer?” Charles asked, trying to keep his tone light. There was just something about him that Charles didn’t like, maybe the over the top way he tried to exude dominance or how his eyes seemed empty of warmth. Charles was very good at reading people, and this guy was not good news.

“The name’s Shaw,” he purred, “and nothing’s wrong. Or at least, I hope not,” Shaw looked pointedly at Erik and grinned viciously. “Stirring up trouble, Erik? I wont have to bring you into custody again, will I?” Charles stood there, shocked out of his mind as Shaw nudged Erik with his foot. 

“Did you make sure to refill the meter, Erik? Or will I have to give you a ticket?” Erik slowly shook his head, never taking his eyes off Shaw. Shaw inspected the meter, a triumphant smile turning into a frown once he realized the meter was full. What was this guy playing? Why was he bullying Erik? He just had a severe asthma attack, for God’s sake! Shaw opened his mouth to say something else, but Charles had enough at that point.

“Excuse me, sir,” Charles snarled and jabbed his finger at the inhaler loosely held in Erik’s hand, “but as you can see he clearly just had an asthma attack!” Charles crossed his arms. Maybe he’d get through the day without punching this arrogant cop in the face, but he sort of doubted that. Shaw shrugged, and his eyes dragged up and down Erik’s body with a satisfied look in his eye. 

“Sometimes it’s hard to tell,” Shaw’s voice was oozing insincerity, “And we wouldn’t want liars and lawbreakers to escape justice, would we Erik?” Shaw crouched down so he was face to face with Erik, only a few inches apart. “That would be… a real shame, hmmm?” Shaw whispered, and then patted Erik’s cheek condescendingly. Erik stayed stonily still, refusing to flinch away. 

Charles felt sick to his stomach, his hands itching to drag the cop away from Erik. He really wished he knew what happened between them. Clearly it was something big, going by the hateful look in Erik’s eyes.

“Go to hell, Shaw,” Erik whispered coldly. Shaw raised his eyebrow and smirked, straightening up smoothly. 

“Well, I must be off,” Shaw said to Charles, brushing off imaginary lint from his shoulder. Charles felt relief course through him. “Nice meeting you, Charles.” Not really, Charles thought, before giving him a small nod. “See you around, Erik,” he said to him before giving a wave. Erik slowly raised his hand and flipped him off, which Shaw only laughed at before he turned and walked away. It was quiet for a few minutes while Erik stared after Shaw silently, as if in a furious daze, until he disappeared around the corner.

The silence stretched out into something awkward. Charles started fidgeting his fingers with the ends of his sweater, hoping Erik would break it before he had to. Charles just didn’t want to walk away with a quick exchange of words; he wanted to know more about this fascinating stranger and his connection with Shaw (and maybe ask him on a date). He mustered his courage and put an inviting smile on his face.

“Uh… would you like to grab a coffee with me?” Charles asked, gesturing awkwardly to the coffee shop he just exited before this whole mess, and held out his hand. Erik looked up, studying him for a few seconds before nodding. Charles breathed out in relief, and smiled as Erik reached out and took Charles’s hand with his own.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! And a huge thanks to my wonderful beta, nepetation. Without him I would crash and burn. <3  
> There might be one more chapter I think, where you'll find out what exactly is going on between Erik and Shaw. Only if someone requests it!  
> I'm going to start posting more frequently now, it's been a pretty hectic summer for me, but now I think I'm going to be able to get back into a good rhythm. (shit I remember writing this when college started. I was so naive)


End file.
